Cipher | VI.II |

My Week as a Poem | July Week 2

keys are a blind excess
paper hung like banners 
both heavy with dew
I'll pull you to the dance floor
and together well jump 
up and out of 
the hole you fell in

the only truth is pain 
every so often
you bob your head through
the smokescreen 
mostly, I'm walking around 
with the skin 
peeled off my back

jump into the dirty blue 
take a look at the lady
still veiled in black
—stick with your friends  
the future looks 
far clearer 
when you can't see a thing